The Edge of Words

Words and Music By Anne Stott

Angels in the corner whispering my name
Sunsets going down every single day
Messages arrive undeciphered and unclaimed
Dreams are lost to sleep while speaking unknown names

There’s a blank wall hanging over me waiting for its sign
There’s a clock ticking endlessly that can’t tell time
There are days remembered so others can be forgot
Everything keeps spinning when I wish it would stop

I’m on the edge of words, some fine line of reason
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I’m prospecting for stars

My virginity ran rampant when I was fifteen
The reality of age was more than I could redeem
My name has been written in heaven and in hell
If I believed in either one that’d be something to tell

I’m on the edge of words, some fine line of reason
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I’m prospecting for stars

Goodness hides in alleyways, waiting for the truth
Who plays tricks on passersby expecting their due
All the longing in the world won’t bring sadness to an end
So let loose your tears my friend the angels understand

I’m on the edge of words, some fine line of reason
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I’m prospecting for stars

(c) 2010 Anne Stott. All rights reserved.